The Faded Portrait
The air in the Great Hall of Aldbury Castle was thick with the scent of roasted pheasant and beeswax, a cloying perfume that seemed to cling to the skin like a second layer of silk. I sat at the lower end of the long oak table, my hands resting on the polished wood, feeling the cold grain beneath my fingers. Above me, the chandeliers cast a warm, amber glow that turned the shadows into pools of...
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